


Certain as the Moon Rising

by sittingonyourfloor



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Book 4: Balance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of canon divergent, Korrasami - Freeform, Let's talk about the weather, Lunar Eclipse, Mild discussion of PTSD, Pre-episode 8, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sittingonyourfloor/pseuds/sittingonyourfloor
Summary: "Asami knew it wasn’t just her. She wanted to believe, more than anything, that picking up again was possible. That it wasn’t just another uncertainty, because that fuzzy feeling had been growing sharper and clearer for three years every time her thoughts strayed to bright blue eyes and crooked smiles and now included that short hair she just wanted to card her fingers through. And as much as she pushed those feelings down to focus on “the now,” Korra was here, familiar and new all at once, and Asami was tired of fighting. So wasn’t this now?"Asami finds herself struggling to find the middle ground in her and Korra's relationship. When a lunar eclipse brings out the parts of them that both women would prefer to leave hidden, Asami is left deciding between stepping back from the middle or taking a leap to the other side.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 6
Kudos: 75





	Certain as the Moon Rising

**Author's Note:**

> So while re-watching "The Siege of the North," the idea of how Korra would feel about eclipses in the world of Avatar fell into my head and here's the result, albeit, from Asami's POV because she's a fun character to write. 
> 
> I definitely took some poetic license with science and also the timing of this story within canon. It's set between "Reunion" and "Remembrances," with the assumption that about a week passed between the two episodes. "Remembrances" could potentially come the day after this fic takes place. 
> 
> With that said, enjoy!

_ “And forecasting clear skies for the next few days! More in fifteen minutes, at five.” _

Asami turned and smiled at the radio in her office that had issued the pleasant news. She never paid much attention to the radio, only using it as background noise, but tended to listen more closely whenever the four-thirty weather report came in. Initially, two summers ago, come to think of it, it had been to listen for news about the series of bad storms making their way up the coast. Bad weather was bad business, but worse business was putting her employees in harm’s way, so she had listened and tried to adjust Future Industries’ shipping schedules accordingly. But there were enough storms that it had become a habit, and Asami wasn’t going to say no to a bit of predictable schedule in her life. Or a reminder that tomorrow would come regardless of how many meetings, interviews, walkthroughs, and missed replies to heartfelt letters there were the day before.

Some people might say that their favorite inventions were telephones, Satomobiles, or flushing toilets, but Asami thought they were all wrong. Weather broadcasts on the radio were far superior. For one, they never broke. Telephone wires could be cut, Satomobiles needed new parts, and toilets flooded whole floors, but the weather never stopped. While the broadcasts were not always entirely correct, hearing a forecast based on real science rather than one hundred year old Han-from-across-the-way’s left knee was still a blessing. And, anyway, they were never entirely  _ wrong _ either. 

_ One less uncertainty to deal with _ , Asami thought as she pulled the last stack of papers she needed to look over before the end of the day. She frowned subsequently, poking her pen right under her bottom lip as she began to scan the first document, something internal that had her company’s letterhead centered up at the top:  _ another _ stall in the production line of Satomobiles. Difficulty importing metal, no idea when the next shipment would be able to make it through. 

Uncertainty. That word seemed to come up in every aspect of her life: her father, now her company, her city, Kuvira, Korra…

_ Korra _ . Three years she’d been gone. Three years and one letter and suddenly here she was again. Sort of.

It felt like no time at all had passed along with thousands of years. Korra was here,  _ really _ here, walking around with new spirit-y powers, and short hair that brought out the soft lines of her face, and the stupid, crooked grin on her face that she gave Asami whenever they caught each other’s eye (because they seemed to always be looking now). It was the one that made Asami’s face feel warm and her brain turn -- there was no other word for it --  _ fuzzy _ , the grin that was only meant for her. But Korra was also here, walking around with spirit powers she didn’t have before, hair that made her look older and more serious, and the faraway look in her eye that she had whenever she thought nobody was looking. It was the one that made Asami’s stomach drop several stories and her brain recall sounds and visions that turned her blood to ice. Because she was looking. She was always looking. 

Except, apparently, at these papers. Asami glanced up. According to her clock, she had been reading the phrase “severe reduction of metal imports” for the past ten minutes.  _ Wasting time _ , she chastised herself as she shook her head and tried to refocus herself on finishing this before the end of the day, flipping through the documents to scan them. 

She was heading to Air Temple Island for the weekend, another habit she started in the past few years even after she stopped living there full time. And this time Korra would be there too. A zing of something akin to the fuzziness in her brain shot through her stomach. As great as Pema’s cooking was, Asami was keenly certain it wasn’t in anticipation of dinner. 

_ Invoices, a customer complaint, an update on a new moped design... _

“This is stupid,” she huffed to the empty office, waving the pen errantly, “I can read these after the weekend.”

With that settled, Asami neatened her desk, turned off the radio, and was out the door as the clock ticked to five.

~

The weather forecast definitely seemed right for the evening. With the weather clear and just a little crisp out, Asami had opted to throw on a scarf, enjoy the fresh air, and drive her moped down to the ferry. Weaving slightly less effortlessly through traffic than normal, she noticed that many other people seemed to have the same idea. There were more pedestrians out than usual, or, at least the new usual that included the Earth Empire looming over the city like some thick, oppressive shadow from the east. Republic City seemed less alive these days, even with the spirit vines woven throughout it. 

Other people -- people who didn’t have the Avatar as their best friend (best friend? close friend? close...something else? Something about secret glances and crooked smiles. About short hair and hugs that went a beat longer than they should and faces afterwards that hovered an inch too close together, hesitating about whether to pull back or push forward, but nobody ever made the leap over that barrier even though that same something was pushing them to just crash through it and stop wasting time like they were filing paperwork on a Friday when they should be seizing any opportunity they could because spirits knew life was miles less certain than tomorrow’s weather. Asami shook her head out as she made a right.) -- didn’t even know as much about what had happened in Zaofu and, still, they seemed to instinctively respond to the restless tension growing in the world. As the denizens went about their lives, there was less mingling between them than before, everyone staying tightly together in their own knots. It reminded Asami of the days during the height of the Equalist movement, or when the Triads got particularly aggressive. People spent their days tip-toeing down the line between ignorance and panic.

Asami zipped past the Southern Water Tribe Cultural Center. The ferry dock was already in sight, but out of habit she turned to take a glance at the blue-roofed building. Workers in front were straightening chairs and lanterns, and even from the road Asami could smell arctic hen roasting. 

_ Oh, right! _ she remembered excitedly as she sped down the hill toward Yue Bay,  _ the eclipse is tonight _ . 

See, that was why weather forecasts were great. Nobody had to wonder if they would be able to see the eclipse during the celebration. And Pema would definitely be making Water Tribe food tonight. Five flavor soup was one of Asami’s favorite dishes, though she stayed away from the sea prune stew. Tenzin, watching Asami’s face curdle the first time she tried it, told her Aang wasn’t fond of the stew either, but she knew Korra enjoyed it. Of course, Korra enjoyed any food put in front of her. Asami smiled to herself as she drove onto the ferry and parked her moped, watching the ferry workers readying to embark.

The ferry started to move and Asami watched as Air Temple Island began to grow closer while the zing in her stomach from earlier happily came back again. Trying to ignore it, to just let the weekend be the weekend ( _ She’s only just come home. You’ve barely seen her _ .), she focused on the reflection of the slowly sinking sun on the water. It was just dipping under the horizon, bathing the bay in a muted orange glow. Soon, it would do the same to the moon. 

This eclipse was special as it was going to be a total eclipse of the moon, which didn’t happen very often. Asami knew from her time spent listening to Tenzin, Jinora, and, surprisingly, Mako, that Chief Sokka pioneered the Water Tribe celebrations in Republic City during the lunar eclipses as remembrances for the siege of the Northern Water Tribe during the Hundred Years’ War and to honor the moon spirit. Partial lunar eclipses were marked with smaller events, but more and more of the city turned out for a total eclipse each time it happened. Last time, though, the night of the eclipse had been a frozen night shrouded in cloud. Between the weather and the still-fresh wounds of Korra’s departure, it was not much of a celebration, and Asami spent it gazing at the foggy horizon to the south until she stopped feeling the cold and Pema drew an arm around her shoulder and brought her to the kitchen for tea and silent company.

Even when the sky was clear, the celebration on Air Temple Island was more of a commemoration, with none of the fanfare of the city. After all, Tenzin and the kids’ family had been there, during the war. The memories were a little more solemn. Still, Asami saw, as the ferry approached, that mats had been set out for people to sit and view the eclipse, and a few extra lanterns were posted around the plaza. 

“ASAMI’S HERE!” Ikki’s voice echoed across the bay as the ferry pulled in and Asami braced herself as two half-sized Airbenders careened into her waist before she even had time to begin rolling her moped forward. 

Meelo’s muffled greeting of, “Hi, beautiful lady!” was drowned out by Ikki’s immediate babble as she tugged Asami off the ferry by the hand, Meelo still wrapped around her waist.

“Asami! You’reearly! WewerewaitingbutDaddysaidyoumightbealittlelateandmightnotcomeuntilthenextferry. Becauseoftheeclipse. Didyoseethemsettingup? Didyousee _ we _ setup? Momsaidwecouldwatcheventhoughit’sgonnabelate. Butwehavetostayherewecan’tgotothecity. ButAuntKya’sgonnatellusstories. Whydidyoubringyourmoped? Doyouwanttoraceuswithit? Areyoustayingtheweekendagain? Whydoyoustayinalldifferentplaces? You’reherethentherethenherethenthere,canyoujuststayherewithuslikebefore? Andwhy--”

“Okay, Ikki, take a breath,” a low voice said just behind Asami. She looked around and was greeted with a gentle smile from Korra before the woman looked back to Tenzin’s middle children, her blue eyes narrowed. “You two go help your mom and Jinora with dinner, I think Asami’s been greeted thoroughly.”

“But that’s boring! And what about  _ you _ ?” Ikki whined mutinously, Meelo nodding with her. 

“ _ Ikki _ ,” Korra cautioned. Before she could say more, the two Airbenders had whipped up their air scooters again and scuttled away, not at all in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Well,” said Asami, walking the rest of the way with Korra to park her moped in its designated spot (complete with a three year-old sign from Ikki and Jinora that read  _ Asami’s Driving Thing _ and was decorated with flowers and a baby bison drawing labeled “Blueberry Spicehead”), “at least I know I’m more interesting than dinner.”

“Yeah, you are,” Korra murmured, and Asami turned from the moped to look at her, a jolt of courage blazing through her. Maybe this weekend could be more than just this weekend?

Korra’s face reddened, and she ran her fingers through her short brown hair, stammering, “I--I mean Pema’s made a great meal. You know, Water Tribe food and stuff? For eclipse before everyone watches the dinner. Uh--I mean! For dinner...before everyone watches the eclipse. Sorry. Hi.”

“Hi to you too,” said Asami, smiling at Korra, blush and all. “I like this,” she added quickly, feeling her own face grow warm.

“Wha-what?”

Asami swallowed, trying to hold as her courage battled pro-bending style with the sudden panic she felt about  _ actually making this weekend more _ . “You being here. I --” she faltered. Unfortunately, panic seemed to be playing as dirty as the Wolfbats and Asami couldn’t face them like Korra could. “I mean --  _ It _ feels whole again.”

Even with the falter, Korra seemed to have turned more red and bit her lip as she pushed her hair out of her face again. “Come on,” she said, her voice slightly higher than before, “let’s get you settled.”

Asami took the lead on the way to the girls’ dormitory. As much as she wanted to walk right next to Korra, there was a potential her own blush would never go away if they kept up with this brushing-each-other’s-arms-and-making-subtle-compliments- _ casually _ routine, and she still needed to make it through a meal and a night with Tenzin’s entire family before thinking about anything more. 

_ Dinner and the eclipse, that’s a nice, easy subject. _

“Well, I  _ am _ looking forward to dinner too,” Asami mentioned as they walked, extraordinarily thankful for her ability to keep her voice composed. “I smelled arctic hen by the cultural center and haven’t been able to think of much else since then. Plus the eclipse. Today I nearly completely forgot about it until I was riding to the ferry! We couldn’t even see the last total eclipse here, that night was so foggy. But I heard yesterday that this one’s supposed to be pretty spectacular for us, and the island will have a great view of it! Although, it must be even better at the South Pole, right? All that open sky and clean air.”

They made it to the door of Asami’s room, but Korra had yet to answer. “Korra?” she asked, turning around again to see her friend with that all-too-familiar faraway look in her eye. “Hey, you okay?” 

At Asami’s question, Korra’s eyes focused back into the present and she looked up, blinking rapidly. It reminded Asami of a mover changing scenes over and over again, but in a dizzying way rather than an artful one. “Hm--what?”

“The eclipse,” Asami reminded her, sliding open the door and motioning for Korra to go in first. “I asked if the views were better at the South Pole. You know, with less lights around.”

“They extinguish all the lights here to view it,” said Korra tonelessly, idly picking up a comb from the dresser. Asami forgot that she’d left it here last time.

She dropped her bag on the bed and turned around to face where Korra was concentrating very hard on the comb. Or at least, on not looking anywhere else. “That’s not exactly what I--”

“I know what you meant!” Korra snapped, throwing the comb on the dresser again and causing Asami to take an involuntary step back. So much for an easy subject.

Her leg bumped against the bed frame, which gave a screech of protest as it was pushed closer to the wall. The sound seemed to shake Korra, whose features softened almost instantly, replacing the icy look she’d had with one of concern. Tentatively, Korra took a step forward, gently lifting her hand to reach out to Asami, but when they locked eyes and Asami couldn’t mask the panic painted over her face, the Avatar seemed to think better of it and she curled her hand into a kneading fist, dropping it to her side. It was like being knocked out of the pro-bending ring and dunked head first into the water. The kindled flame of their earlier greeting and the promise of their conversation had suddenly been extinguished.

Asami dropped their shared gaze first, biting her lip as she tried to become interested in the window rather than the widening chasm between them. Meanwhile, Korra was determinedly interested in the floor.  _ You’ve built bridges before, _ Asami told herself sternly, taking a steadying breath,  _ you don’t just give up _ .

“I didn’t me--”

“Asami, I’m--”

Asami looked to Korra again, cocking her head. As quickly as it widened, the chasm was being rendered passable as Korra returned her look with a slight smile, crooked as usual. “You go first,” said Asami quietly, as if speaking any louder would disturb the room. Or Korra. 

Korra rolled her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking. “Sorry,” she told Asami equally as quiet, her voice rough, almost hollow, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay,” said Asami, pulling her leg from where it was against the bed frame and taking her own step forward, but Korra moved back this time, breaking their gaze as Asami felt the chasm expand again, tearing the unsteady Sato-bridge from its foundation and swallowing it whole.

“Yeah,” murmured Korra. She turned away, and Asami caught her hands still kneading in fists. Her eyes stung. The room was musty. “I’ll let you settle in before dinner.” 

Before Asami could respond, the door had slid closed and she was alone in the orange evening light.  _ Well _ , she thought brusquely, rubbing her nose and forcing herself to swallow the sudden hardness in her throat, glancing out the window,  _ at least I know the skies are clear _ .

~

There was, indeed, a huge spread of Water Tribe food for dinner. The table was practically humming with excitement, hands reaching everywhere to grab favorite dishes. Pema was coaxing Rohan to try seaweed noodles, Ikki and Meelo were arguing over who got the perfectly formed dumpling (after enduring a few minutes of shouting, Tenzin grabbed the dumpling with his chopsticks and broke it in two, handing each child a piece. “But now it isn’t perfect!” Meelo whined.), Jinora, Bumi, and Kya were discussing the eclipse, and Korra was swirling around her sea prunes in their bowl, her head resting in her other hand and tilted away from Asami, who sat on her right. 

Asami couldn’t say she was faring much better. Five flavor soup had never tasted more one-note. She sipped it methodically, forcing herself to go through the motions in her head to fruitlessly prevent any other thoughts from leaking in. They could talk about it later. They could even forget it ever happened. This... _it_...wasn’t even supposed to happen.

_What_ was _supposed to happen?_ Asami thought derisively as she sipped more soup and swallowed thickly. She knew things would be different. It isn’t possible to go three years without seeing someone and just pick up where they left off, wherever that had been. But then in that moment in the restaurant, during that uninhibited hug Asami’s brain was suddenly unable to multitask for the first time in years, only focused on the warmth of Korra in her arms. And feeling Korra just relax as her head bent into Asami’s shoulder. Even after they pulled apart, neither of them had wanted to let go, Asami knew it wasn’t just her. She wanted to believe, more than anything, that picking up again _was_ possible. That it wasn’t just another uncertainty, because that fuzzy feeling had been growing sharper and clearer for three years every time her thoughts strayed to bright blue eyes and crooked smiles and now included that short hair she just wanted to card her fingers through. And as much as she pushed those feelings down to focus on “the now,” Korra was _here_ , familiar and new all at once, and Asami was tired of fighting. So wasn’t this now?

Asami brought her eyes up from her soup and glanced over to her left, where Korra had stopped stirring her stew as if she knew she was being watched. She began to turn--

“You two are awfully quiet.”

Asami couldn’t completely hide her grimace as she and Korra both whipped to face Kya, who was appraising them thoughtfully. “Sorry, I’m just thinking about the week,” said Asami quickly as she felt Korra tense, her shoulders visibly tightening. “It feels like work never stops these days, you know?” 

“Hmm,” Kya replied, looking from Asami to Korra. If only all her business associates were as sharp-eyed as Kya was.

Before the Waterbender could comment further, however, Pema interjected. “Well, at least put work on hold tonight so that you can enjoy the eclipse with us!” she said smiling. 

Asami couldn’t help but smile back, even if it didn’t quite reach her inside. Pema was infectious. Even at her worst moments over the past three years, Asami always felt comforted by her, and Tenzin too. They never pried or acted like they knew best, even in the moments where it was painfully obvious that Asami wasn’t doing well. Often when they sat together, nobody said a word. It was just lighter around them, rejuvenating. Maybe it was the attention to quiet and meditation. Although Tenzin would probably say it was the beds releasing tension from their backs. 

“Can we go outside yet?” Ikki asked impatiently. “It’s dark! Can we?”

“Ikki, the eclipse doesn’t start for another hour,” said Jinora, rolling her eyes. 

“Soooooooo? We can still start watching! And Aunt Kya can tell us Water Tribe stories! And about the moon! Can’t you Aunt Kya?”

Asami watched Kya’s eyes flash briefly to Tenzin before she answered, shrugging. “I don’t see why not.”

“YAY!” Ikki leapt up from her spot and dropped next to Kya’s side, “Canwegonow? Let’sgonow! I’mfinished! Everyone’sfinished! Right? Korraareyoufinished,didyoueat?” Ikki stared unabashedly at Korra’s still full bowl of stew. 

Korra looked down at her food. “Oh, yeah. Yeah I’m done. It was good. Thanks, Pema. I’ll, uh, help clear up.” Without another word, Korra stood up and grabbed her bowl and Asami’s to bring to the sink. Everyone else followed suit, clearing their own places along with the leftovers of the spread. 

“I’ve got it from here,” Pema said after the whirlwind died down, “you all head outside.” She nodded her head at Tenzin, “Just make sure to keep an eye on Rohan.”

Bumi’s booming voice sounded as he picked up a giggly Rohan and wildly slung him over one shoulder. “Don’t you worry about this sack of moon peaches, Pema!” he said, saluting her with one arm. “I’ll be keeping all four eyes on him!”

“Four eyes?” Asami heard all the children gasp as they tramped away.

“Mhmm!” Bumi said, his voice carrying back into the kitchen, “Two in the front, two in the back. Nobody sneaks off on my watch!”

At the entryway, Asami stopped and turned back. “Are you sure you don’t need any help, Pema?”

Pema waved a soapy hand at her from where she was already tackling the dishes. “All good, Asami! Go and enjoy!”

Nodding, Asami turned and headed outside to the pavilion where everyone had gathered around Kya. She could still hear Bumi as well. The soft, golden light of the lanterns bathed their figures reminding Asami of the recently drowned sun reflecting on the water. It was peaceful and gentle, and she was comforted by how familiar each figure was, even in shadow. She was less comforted by the realization that someone was missing. 

_ Of course she is _ . 

~

Korra rolled over on her bed to face the wall as soon as Asami slid open her door. “You should be outside,” she murmured, nodding backwards at her single window facing the pavilion, indistinct voices breaking through the room’s stillness as Asami stepped quietly into the room and closed the door behind her. 

“So should you,” Asami replied in her business tone, walking over to the bed, ignoring the still-gaping chasm’s attempt to stop her because she was the best engineer in Republic City, she could build a perfectly usable bridge that didn’t break because of a stupid hole in her sleep for spirits’ sake. She came right up to the edge of the bed and knelt down. Her courage had stepped into the pro-bending ring for another round, hardening her resolve like metalbent armor (which may not actually be legal in pro-bending but this was  _ her _ match), and she took advantage of it by placing a hand on Korra’s shoulder, which tensed immediately. 

“Korra,” she said, more gently this time, “you know you can talk to me.”

At first, the woman didn’t say anything. Asami stayed kneeling by the bed, hand holding steady pressure on Korra’s now trembling shoulder. It reminded her wrenchingly of the weeks after the poisoning. Asami closed her stinging eyes, trying desperately to hold onto her courage that was escaping as quickly as it had come. But she wasn’t a metalbender, or a pro-bender, and her armor was being ripped away as she was plunged into hearing the echoes of Korra screaming at unseeable demons, ghosts that still haunted the room they were in now. Screams that still plagued Asami whenever she let her guard down too low in sleep, that pressed her from all sides in cacophonous madness, leaving her gasping for air, sobbing and stumbling blindly through the shimmering dark in her bedroom until she remembered where she was and that Korra wasn’t there, that she was alone on her floor. Those nights always ended on the floor. 

A whimper of remembrance escaped before Asami could stop it, torn away from her with the last of her shredded courage as memories consumed her mind and edged into her sight.

She jumped, startled into the present, when Korra turned over at the sound. Asami’s watery vision was filled with concerned blue eyes staring at her and a sudden hand reaching to wipe away a rogue tear. “Hey. Hey, don’t cry, ‘Sami,” Korra soothed, hand lingering on her cheek, caressing it with calloused fingers, “it’s okay.”

Asami let out a note of a laugh that ended up coming out like a choked sob, more tears spilling down her cheeks and over Korra’s fingers as she did. “I thought I was supposed to be comforting you,” she said in a scratchy voice. 

“You’re more important,” Korra replied instantly, shifting to sit up and wiping more tears from Asami’s cheeks. When Asami frowned, she added, “No, I mean--it’s stupid. You’re not, but I’m...being stupid. I said I wouldn’t, but...I can’t. Can’t not. I’m...I don’t know.” 

Asami reached up and took Korra’s hand in her own, bringing it off her cheek to settle in between them. “Tell me?” she asked, sniffling and unsuccessfully trying to make herself sound less wretched. “Please?” 

Whatever weekend she had expected when she left work with news of clear skies was not this.

Korra took a deep breath and nodded, tugging on Asami’s hand to pull her off the floor and up to sit on the bed. She didn’t let go when Asami settled in next to her, their arms brushing against each other in a very un-casual way that they pretended to ignore. Instead, both of them stared down at their joined hands for what could have been moments or several days stretching out as Korra absently stroked her thumb over Asami’s knuckles, time only marked by Asami’s occasional sniffles as she continued to let tears run down her face and drip onto her legs.

“You know how Firebenders and Waterbenders draw their power from the moon and the sun and so eclipses make us lose bending for a little while?” Korra finally said, her explanation directed at their hands.

Silently, Asami nodded. 

“I hate it.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, I don’t  _ hate  _ it. It’s just...it used to be something benders wanted to pass quickly. I mean, I still remember Katara telling me the solar eclipse was once called the darkest day in Fire Nation history. It used to be -- I don’t know -- not  _ this _ . Sokka wanted to honor Princess Yue’s sacrifice in a way that different and smaller the spirits festival, not more sacred but more personal. And it kind of became us using these days as a reminder to be thankful and grateful. But it just makes me feel so  _ powerless _ .” Korra’s hand tightened almost painfully around Asami’s, but she didn’t try to pull out of the Avatar’s grip. “I used to just ignore it, I mean it’s not for long and as the Avatar, I should be grateful. And nobody’s trying to invade or press their advantage anymore, embracing vulnerability is kind of the point. But ever since...every eclipse since then...it just, it reminds me of that feeling and I’m right back on those rocks, right back in his grasp. I can feel myself weakening all over again. Even now. I thought it would be different being back here, that  _ I’d _ be different. Or stronger or something. That it wouldn’t be a big deal, and I wouldn’t let it get to me. But I can’t. I feel...scared...and alone. And I just...really hate it,” she finished darkly.

Her hand relaxed, but Asami tightened her grip instead and Korra returned the gesture. “I know what you mean,” Asami told her after another minute, turning to look at Korra this time, “and it’s not stupid.”

“You do?” Korra echoed, lifting her head. 

“Yeah -- well -- not as a bender. But those feelings, I know those feelings.” She tilted her head side to side, deciding on how much to say. Korra had been completely honest, so didn’t Asami owe her the same? Not even owe her, but wasn’t  _ that _ picking up where they left off and moving forward? “When you left I had nightmares for months,” she finally said, “it felt like I never had a chance to breathe, and nobody can help you in your sleep.” 

“You never--”

“I know...I know. I didn’t want to worry you. I felt like, with everything going on, you didn’t need to be thinking about one more thing, you know?” She bit her lip and gave Korra a soft smile, taking a turn to stroke over Korra’s knuckles with her thumb and squeeze her hand again. “I guess I just wanted to be strong for you.”

Korra nodded, dropping her gaze to their joined hands and lifting them up for a moment before letting them rest on the bed once more. 

“Do you still have them?” she asked. Asami nodded, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.

“Do you?”

“All the time.” 

At that, completely unexpectedly even to herself, Asami brought her other hand to cup Korra’s cheek and bring them back face to face. Korra’s blue eyes were glassy. The two women were close enough that Asami could count the little trail of freckles that dotted down to the tip of her nose, stir the few stray hairs in Korra’s face as she breathed, and hear Korra swallow as her eyes dropped from Asami’s to a few inches below.

“You don’t have to be alone,” Asami told her in the barest of whispers, her own gaze lowering as she leaned in close enough that she could feel when Korra spoke next. 

“Neither do you.” 

And then there was no more space. And Korra’s lips were pressed against hers, not the least bit tentative. One of her hands was in Asami’s hair, while the other let go from their shared grasp to snake around her waist and pull them closer together. Asami responded in kind, deepening their kiss as she carded her fingers up Korra’s scalp and found herself sitting against the wall at the head of the bed with Korra straddling her lap. Her hands traveled to frame Korra’s face, holding her as if letting go would mean letting her disappear. Chatter from outside hummed a little louder through the ambience of the room, but Asami barely heard anything besides Korra’s breathing and her own thrumming heart. 

Finally, they broke apart, but only just, their noses still brushing against each other as both their chests heaved together. Korra briefly closed the space once more, pressing a chaste kiss against Asami’s lips that flooded her body with warmth, reminding her of the soft lantern light that had outlined the people outside before. It didn’t seem visible through the window now, but Asami did not bother looking for it past the darkness outside as Korra drew up the hand that had been fisting her shirt and brought it up to brush away the long curl of black hair that always fell in her face. Asami shivered at the touch, her hands dropping to Korra’s waist where she circled her thumbs over the woman’s hips.

“Did you know,” said Korra in a low, smooth voice, finger tracing the lines of Asami’s face, “that your eyes have flecks of gold in them?”

“No.” Asami’s breath hitched as she answered.

Korra leaned back slightly, now winding the loose of Asami’s hair delicately around her finger, her eyes mapping Asami’s face as if this were the first time they’d ever seen each other. “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, her own eyes darkening with desire.

Unable to stand the loss of connection any longer, Asami brought her hands up again to draw Korra back down to her, kissing her with more immediate fervor this time. Outside, she could hear the chatter grow louder, and the distinct voice of Ikki cried, “Wow!” as Asami held Korra tighter, and tasted the gentle moan the woman let escape, letting her tongue graze Korra’s bottom lip, asking for passage. Korra obliged, burying her fingers further into Asami’s hair as the two slid down the wall, Asami laying on her back and pulling Korra to her, trying to eliminate any space between them. 

It was pure need. Passionate, consuming. Kissing Korra was beyond Asami’s descriptive abilities, and her mind had gone blissfully blank, instinct overtaking thought. Her hands roamed over Korra’s back, mapping the sculpted lines of her shoulders and committing to subconscious memory every movement, every reaction, every sound that this incredible, beautiful woman made as they delved further into each other. Some amount of time later, after Asami had lost the ability to measure such trivial things, she shuddered underneath Korra as a bold hand grazed down her side to find the hem of her shirt.

“Korra,” Asami breathed into the kiss. Her voice sounded far away, coated in regret as she used every ounce of strength to slow them down. The hand tickling her side stilled and Asami felt Korra’s breath at her cheek as she pulled slightly away. Fluttering her eyes open, Asami saw Korra staring at her shyly. Her hair was rumpled, shirt a little crooked, and there was a delicate stain of red rimming her lips. Asami broke out in a grin, reaching up to rub her thumb over Korra’s lips to lessen the stain. Idly, Korra turned and kissed the tip of it, making Asami giggle.

“So--” Korra’s voice cracked on the timid, and she cleared her throat, “so that was okay? I mean you--you’re okay?”

“Mm,” Asami hummed satedly in response, still tracing the lines of Korra’s mouth, “very. I just--”

“Wouldn’t have been able to stop?” Korra guessed more of her usual tone returning as she slid off Asami and curled up at her side, leaving barely measurable space between them. Asami turned to her, reaching out to run her fingers through Korra’s hair again and nodding. A laugh rumbled in Korra’s chest and Asami quickly decided she had never heard a better sound before this moment. “Me too,” Korra agreed with the silent reply as she pressed another quick, soft kiss to Asami’s lips that ended too soon. 

“I’m sorry,” Korra said once she had broken the kiss again and they lay facing each other, noses a breath from touching, “about before. Not...not telling you what was going on. And hurting you. You know I never want to do that.”

“It’s okay,” Asami told her. “I’m sorry too. We agreed there would be an adjustment period, we’ve definitely got some catching up to do. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to work through it.” She punctuated her response by stroking down the path of freckles on Korra’s nose, relishing in the sudden swooping sensation in her stomach.  _ I can do this now _ . 

“Actually, I kind of like working through it,” said Korra, cheeks coloring pink. She looked over toward the window where pale moonlight was bathing the dark island, no lanterns shining any longer. 

Asami looked too. “It’s over,” she remarked.

“I’m sorry,” Korra repeated, “I know you were looking forward to it.”

“Oh, I think that how I spent my time may have... _ eclipsed _ my expectations,” Asami said casually, trying to wink and just scrunching both eyes like someone had poked her. So much for being beautiful.

Korra burst out laughing, loud enough that the sound reverberated against the walls and rang in Asami’s ears. “You,” she said breathlessly when she was finally able to gain control, “are such a dork.” She nudged at Asami’s nose and quietly added, “My dork.”

“Yours,” Asami affirmed, kissing her again and enveloping her in an embrace, tucking Korra’s head under her chin. It was an electric thrill to feel Korra’s strong arms slide around her back and reciprocate, fully and openly.  _ We can do this now _ , Asami repeated. The rhythm of their gentle breathing and the boneless feeling of contentment as they were wrapped up in one another began to lull her into a doze. The scent of Korra’s hair wreathed around her, comforting her senses until her eyes drooped and her chin slipped off the crown of Korra’s head.

“ _ Hngh--? _ ” both of them lurched awake.

“Sorry,” Asami yawned, stretching catlike against Korra’s body, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She breathed in deeply, still feeling a little dazed, and blinked several times in the dim light. The candles Korra had been burning had sunk very low. “Tenzin will be wondering where we went,” she said with regretful suggestion. 

“Kya will have told him,” Korra sighed blearily, snuggling in closer to Asami’s chest and gathering up part of her shirt in one hand.

“How--”

“Shh,” said Korra, relinquishing her hold to blindly reach up to pet Asami’s nose. Missing her mark, she clumsily stroked the corner of her mouth instead. “Kya  _ always _ knows.”

After another moment, Korra blinked open one eye and looked up at Asami. 

“‘Sami?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll, you know...stay, won’t you?”

Asami smiled, pressing a sleepy kiss to Korra’s hair and settling herself more comfortably in the bed. “Of that much, I’m certain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know there's a whole wiki page devoted to cuisine in the Avatar universe?
> 
> Anyway, I'm considering potentially doing a collection of nighttime Korrasami fics. Something about the vulnerability of night with these two characters makes me interested in learning more about them. 
> 
> Please if you have a second leave a review. I always love to hear what readers have to say and it helps me become a better writer! I really really struggle with longer plots, especially in this 4000-8000 word range, so this story is a huge exercise in working on weaknesses like that.
> 
> PS- If you came here from "Beyond the Horizon," I'm sorry for taking so long updating that. This year (and I say that while gesturing vaguely to everything) has made my writing headspace very difficult to occupy. It's not over, it's just on hold until I feel I can do it justice.


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